


ever since i turned the lights on

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Dimension Travel, Family Bonding, Gen, Introspection, etc - Freeform, learn the true meaning of happiness, the middle kids go on an adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The venn diagram of things that were wholeheartedly not on Tim’s to-do list for his and Cass’ day off, including but not limited to: running into his asshole older brother, messing with a magical artefact, getting transported into another universe, and things that Tim and Cass ended up doing on their day off anyway, has an unfortunate amount of overlap. Woe is him.
Relationships: Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 37
Kudos: 250





	ever since i turned the lights on

**Author's Note:**

> what is it w me and writing universes wher ei have to radically reinterpret canon. 
> 
> usual disclaimer that i don't actually know how to write jason and i don't know why i keep writing fics where he's a huge focus

“Alright, let’s head off,” Tim tells Cass, grabbing the grocery bags he had set out and his keys. He tries to remember whether he has enough in the tank to make it all the way into the city; ugh, the drive in from the Manor is always such a pain. Of course, it’s his own fault that they had to make a stop here before groceries anyway, for leaving his phone in the Batcave last night, but Tim reserves the right to complain regardless.

Cass nods, holding up the scribbled grocery list they had compiled last night. “See you, Dick!” she calls out into the sitting room next to the Manor exit.

Dick, who is curled up on the couch and watching a movie with Damian, raises a hand at the two in goodbye.

“See you two,” he grins at them. “Don’t get into any trouble now!”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Dick elbows Damian in the side.

Rolling his eyes, Damian waves them off as well and calls out, “Yes, don’t die on your way to the grocery store. That’d be rather embarrassing to announce at the funeral,”

Tim scoffs, but shares a smile with Cass anyway. He’s in a good enough mood to find Damian’s abrasiveness funny, and he guesses that _technically_ was a nice sentiment.

“Bye! We’re going!” he shouts as he pushes open the door. He thinks he can hear some kind of response from the office a few doors down, but he’s not entire sure. Well, it’s not like he needs Bruce’s permission to go anyway. He doesn’t even live here anymore.

Cass grabs his free hand as they walk, swinging it between them.

It’s a gorgeous day, far outperforming what most people expect from a nice day in Gotham. Tim can actually see the sun and the sky is shockingly blue, but with enough clouds dotted around that there isn’t too much glare. Like, it’s a nice day. A good day.

A good day to have off. 

Tim gets into their car and starts the engine, pleased to find that the tank is still pretty full. He doesn’t want to say it out loud, because that’s pretty much asking for it to be jinxed, but it feels like everything is falling in place for him today. Which is nice. He recognizes that it’s probably concerning that _good days_ are something he considers elusive, but…

Well, he’ll have time to unpack that later. Really. For today, he’s just going to concentrate on how nice it is.

Cass reaches over and plugs her phone in, and soon the car is filled with a pleasant sounding pop song.

Tim smiles at her, puts the car into drive, and sets off.

It’s a nice ten or so minutes of driving and singing along to the music. Their windows are down and the volume is loud, and life feels a little bit perfect. That’s the nice thing about the Manor being all the way out here, Tim guesses. It feels like a miniature road-trip every time they make the drive in.

Tim wishes he had treasured that peace more. Because after that?

After that, it goes downhill.

It starts with the sight of somebody sitting sadly next to a motorcycle on the side of the road. Then, the sight of that somebody seeing the car approach, standing up, and starting to wave wildly at them.

Tim considers continuting to drive. He does. His foot hovers over the pedal. It’d be so easy. Nobody would know.

“Uh,” Cass says. “Is that… Jason…?”

“No,” Tim replies immediately, but he’s already looking closer.

God fucking damnit. It’s Jason. 

Tim groans. “We have to stop, don’t we?”

Cass shrugs. “Not necessarily,” she replies.

Tim groans again and slows down.

It seems that Jason has realized who his saviour is as well, because his expression, now in view, has gone sour. He shakes his head, making a cross with his arms. 

Tim continues to slow. He pulls up to a neat stop next to Jason, whose mouth is moving now.

Tim looks at Cass. Cass shrugs back at him. With a sigh, he rolls down the window a tiny bit.

“—tinue on driving, please, don’t let me stop you. Really. Just go right on. I’m fine,” Jason is saying.

“Jason,” Tim says shortly. 

“Foot on the pedal, Timmy, that’s all you have to do,” Jason continues without pause. 

“Maybe we should just go,” Cass says, her tone just shy of cold. Tim considers it. After all, he wants to keep going. Cass wants to keep going. Jason wants them to keep going. There’s nothing stopping him from just… _going._

Except there is. There _is._ Tim didn’t need this reminder that he’s still all sorts of soft.

“Jason,” Tim interrupts again. “This road only leads to the Manor. Which means, aside from us, the only people who will be driving in or out today are Bruce when he gets home from work, and Dick when he leaves later.”

With the _clack_ of teeth, Jason shuts his mouth. 

After a few moments, he mutters, “Maybe I’ll just walk.”

Tim sighs. _Again._ Seriously, five minutes ago he had been thinking about how lovely this day was shaping up to be. Had he jinxed himself? Is this punishment for his hubris? This wouldn’t even be that bad, if Jason could just pretend to be a normal person and cooperate even the slightest.

Tim screws his eyes shut in brief mourning, and then he asks, “What’s wrong? I have a toolkit in the boot, if you need it.”

“No,” Jason mutters in reply. “There’s nothing wrong.” He pauses, and has enough shame to look somewhat hesitant when he continues, “I’m just out of fuel,”

Tim snorts despite himself. “Coming in from the city?” he asks. 

Cass rolls her eyes.

Jason scowls. “Why is this place so in the middle of fucking nowhere? It’s such a fucking _ordeal_ to get here every time!”

Maybe it’s that Tim had been contemplating this very problem mere minutes ago. Maybe it’s the sunshine doing something to his brain. But he feels… He feels…

Sympathetic.

In his periphery, Cass shakes her head. Tim runs the calculations, and figures that he’s willing to risk Cass being sulky for the rest of the day for the sake of his conscience. He’d, unfortunately and unwillingly, feel really fucking bad if they left Jason here.

Sighing, he winds down the window more. “Get in,” he says. “We’ll drive you back to the Manor to grab a jerrycan.”

Jason blinks at Tim in poorly concealed confusion. Tim hadn’t been exactly expecting him to jump for joy, but it does miff him that there’s no gratitude whatsoever. 

“Really?” Jason asks, sounding skeptical. 

How awful does he think Tim is? “Yes,” he snaps, unable to stop the hurt from turning the corners of his mouth down. 

Jason blinks at him again. He does something with his eyes and his expression, and Tim’s perturbed to find that he understands what Jason’s trying to communicate.

Tim turns around, and, ah.

Cass is glaring, in that sweet-yet-terrifying way of hers, at Jason.

He sends Cass a look that he hopes communicates _please be cool I’ll let you buy those terrible tomato chips if you’re cool_ and then turns back to Jason. He resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“She’s fine with it,” Tim says.

“I’m fine with it,” Cass repeats serenely. Tim doesn’t need to turn back to know that she’s still glaring.

Jason looks deeply, deeply doubtful, but he goes to open the back door all the same. He pauses halfway through the movement, standing with the door pulled out and staring into the car, and clears his throat. 

Tim and Cass both turn back to look at him.

Jason asks, “Do I have to sit in the back?”

They just stare at him. That isn’t worth dignifying with a response.

Throwing his hands up, Jason goes, “Alright, alright, just fucking asking,”

There’s nobody around to see him speed on the way back to the Manor, Tim muses. He could totally get away with it.

* * *

He’s standing in front of the door, trying to remember what pocket he kept his keys in, when something occurs to Tim. 

He straightens up and turns to stare at Jason, who’s standing a few feet away from the door and staring into the distance moodily. Does he know that he’s a caricature of himself at this point? Should Tim inform him?

Tim tries to imagine that conversation. Mm, not pretty. He removes that from his hypothetical to-do list.

“Jason,” he calls.

Jason turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “What?” he says. “Can’t find it? Cause I definitely don’t have one,”

Tim shakes his head. “No,” he starts. “I… why exactly, were you coming to the Manor?”

Tim would feel bad for being suspicious, but he’s pretty sure he has good reason. Sure, ever since Bruce came back and things started to settle a bit, it’s no longer uncommon to see Jason in the cave after patrol. Sometimes, if he’s in a good enough mood, he’ll even drag himself up to the kitchen with the rest of them for snacks. Tim can admit that Jason’s not the stranger he once was to Wayne Manor.

But it’s still pretty fucking weird that he’s just showing up in the middle of the day without any prior warning. Especially since he isn’t suited up.

Jason scowls at him immediately. “What?” he snaps. “I can’t just drop in to say hi?”

Tim crosses his arms. Beside him, Cass gives a very polite sounding _hah._

Jason concedes the point with a huff. “Okay, fine,” he snaps. He shoves his hands into his pockets, and sends Tim and Cass a narrow glare. He says, mouth pursed, “You can’t laugh at me,”

Oh. _Oh?_

Cass looks up from her phone for the first time since getting out of the car. 

Tim tilts his head to the side.

“Wow,” Jason says, staring at their reactions in mild horror. “It’s like looking at a pair of bloodhounds on the scent,”

Tim and Cass don’t reply.

They all have a brief standoff. Tim does take a moment to feel sorry for Jason, since he’s outnumbered, but it passes quickly. He’s far too curious now for things like sympathy. Tim drove the guy here. Granted, only for ten minutes, but he still deserves something in return. 

Finally, Jason drags a hand over his face and says, “Just promise, okay?”

Tim and Cass exchange looks. They look back at Jason.

“We promise,” Cass says. She’s the better liar. Granted, Jason doesn’t look very convinced, but he doesn’t need to be; he just needs to talk.

Jason bites his lip in uncertainty. He hunches his shoulders. For all that Tim makes fun of him—mostly internally, occasionally externally—for being a caricature of himself, or for playing way into his edgy vigilante thing, it is easy to forget that he’s also just. A guy. 

A guy who has definitely committed several murders, Tim having been on the receiving end of one of those attempts, but he’s trying to focus on the positives here.

Jason sighs. He repeats again, insistent and a little embarrassed, “Seriously, you can’t laugh,” and then launches into the recount of his morning.

As it turns out, it is very, _very_ hard to adhere to the no laughing rule. 

By the end, Cass has fully spaced herself away from their little meeting. Tim, personally, has opted for staring up into the sky and inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to not laugh. She’s still within earshot, and the distance doesn’t really make how her shoulders shake every time Jason adds another detail any less noticeable, but he doesn’t call her out on it. Tim thinks he might’ve been waiting to tell this story to somebody, judging by his weird mix of enthusiasm and embarrasment. Maybe he just needed somebody to verify how batshit it is. 

Good for him, Tim feels very willing to do that. It is really quite batshit. 

“Jason,” he says, his voice slightly strangled from the effort it’s taking to keep a straight face, “you’re twenty-one years old.”

His voice barely level, Jason replies, “Thank you, Tim. I wasn’t aware of that,”

“You’re twenty-one years old,” Tim repeats, “and you think an old woman _on a donkey_ gave you a magical item in return for giving her directions,”

“She pulled it out of nowhere and said it would ‘help me uncover the truth’!” Jason exclaims, as Cass devolves into a series of coughs. “What the fuck am I supposed to think?”

Tim snorts. “That she’s a weird old lady who was trying to be nice? She owns a donkey and lives in Gotham, dude, she sounds kind of eccentric.”

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be the weirdest fucking thing that’s ever happened to any of us.”

That is good point, Tim has to admit. 

At that moment, Cass decides to rejoin them, evidently having recovered from her supposed coughing fit. Grinning, she says, “Maybe he’s right,” which is very weird to hear her saying about Jason. “The world is strange.”

“Why do I still feel like I’m being made fun of?” Jason mutters as he glances at Cass. She just grins wider. 

“Because it’s true,” she replies. Tim snorts. Sometimes he forgets that Cass is actually older than Jason. It’s just a little hard for him to compute Jason as a younger sibling, even though Dick, and sometimes Cass, certainly never hesitate to older sibling him to the extreme.

“Ugh,” Jason says, “whatever. I just wanted to go down to the cave and analyze this thing while everyone’s out. I don’t need you two to believe me.”

“What?” Tim replies, shaking his head. “No way! I’m invested now. Show me this magical item you’ve been blessed with, please.”

Jason glares at him. Tim feels comfortable smiling smugly back and holding out his hand, because he knows there’s no way Jason can escape from this. Cass is the fastest one out of all of them, and Jason doesn’t have any keys to the Manor. He’s backed into a corner.

He comes to this conclusion a few seconds after Tim does. 

Scowling, he reaches into his pocket and drops something into Tim’s palm.

Cass immediately crowds in, trying to get a good look. Huh. He brings it closer.

It’s some kind of stained glass charm. It’s a fireplace, from what Tim can tell. Attached to the top is a little string, like it’s intended to be hung somewhere. 

Honestly, it’s gorgeous. Tim’s fascinated with the detail in the flames; when it catches the light, it almost looks as if the fire is alive. It doesn’t necessarily feel magical, but with the way it dances around in his vision, he can almost understand why Jason thinks so.

“Wow,” Tim says. “This is amazing,”

With an expression on his face that could almost be a pout, Jason says, “Be careful with it.”

Tim nods. Of course. Magical or not, it’s easy to tell that this is an incredible piece of glasswork. 

Nudging his arm, Cass says, “Hold it up to the light.”

Jason’s eyes light up a little at this, and he moves in closer as well. Tim lifts up the charm, trying to catch the sun in the layers of glass. 

With Cass on one side and Jason on the other, he holds the charm up to the sun. He adjusts it a little, just a little, a bit more and—there!

A beam of sun shines directly through the centre of the little fireplace. Everything goes white.

* * *

Tim comes to again in an instant. It’s not like blacking out, but like walking into the sun after ages of being in the dark; all it takes is a few moments to blink the lights out of his eyes and adjust, and the world comes back into focus.

Oh. Except the world that comes back into focus is _not_ the one he was just looking at.

He still feels Cass and Jason next to him, which is something, but when he looks around it is obvious that they’ve been… transported… somehow. The Manor is gone. There’s considerably more trees than before, and the carefully curated lawn has turned into uneven, messy terrain.

“What the fuck,” Tim says.

With wide eyes, he looks at his siblings.

“I fucking knew it,” Jason says. He steps away, and agitatedly walks in a little circle. “I fucking _knew it!”_

Tim breathes in, and then he breathes out. Just for good measure, he does it again: in, then out. 

“Okay,” he says. There might’ve been more merit to Jason’s magical item theory than Tim had initially thought. Much more merit, actually. So much so that it was… well. Correct. “You were right,”

The words sound even weirder coming from him.

“Yes I fucking was,” Jason snaps. He pauses for a moment, as if to bask in that. Then he gets right back to yelling. “I was right, I _knew_ there was something fishy, and I was being so careful until you two showed up and fucked me over!”

“We didn’t do anything!” Tim protests. “How the fuck was I supposed to know it would… do magical shit when I held it up to the light? You were interested in seeing it too!”

“Momentary lapse in judgement,” Jason spits back. Tim resists the urge to snap _your life is a momentary lapse in judgement,_ because that’s immature and childish, and also maybe a little too on the ball. He’s not actually trying to make Jason any madder than he already is. He’s just kind of bad at conflict resolution.

He says, “Look, there’s probably a way to reverse it,” and then promptly realizes that the charm isn’t in his hand anymore.

He looks down at the ground, praying to any god that could be listening that it would be there.

It’s not. Fuck his life.

He looks up just in time to see the realization hit Jason as well, because his expression goes even darker.

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” Jason tells Tim. Tim can’t decide whether or not that statement is scarier or less so, because of the previous murder attempt. On one hand, he’s already lived through it once. On the other hand, he did cut it _pretty close_ with the whole living thing.

Cass enters the conversation at that point. Well, not really, because she doesn’t say anything, but she crosses her arms and steps slightly in front of Tim, thus putting herself between him and Jason. The statement is clear enough.

Tim feels bad for being relieved, but he is relieved.

Jason glares right back at Cass. “Fuck off,” he snaps, and woah, _nobody_ talks to Cass like that. Tim sends Jason a withering glance.

“Back up, Jason,” he snaps. Jason opens his mouth again, probably to continue losing his temper and saying inflammatory shit, so Tim keeps speaking right over him. “Look. I’m sorry I fucked around with the magic thing. And I know you have a fuckton of unresolved trauma, and you deal with that through your wildly unmanaged temper, but can you just, like, repress your feelings like the rest of the world at least until we figure this out?”

Even Cass looks a little surprised by the end of that tirade.

Jason stares at Tim. Tim’s a little worried that he just made everything worse, and that an actual fight is about to break out.

Then, Jason visibly takes in a breath. He turns away from them.

“Okay,” he says into the air. He still sounds pretty pissed, but his tone is level, so. It’s an improvement. “Let’s figure this out. And then when we get back, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.”

The tension releases from Tim’s chest. He laughs, dry and insincere. “You can try,” he replies.

Cass grabs his hand. He gives her a very weak smile.

Well. At least the weather’s still nice.

* * *

In the end, for lack of any better option, they let Cass pick a direction and start walking.

Because it’s Cass, and Cass is probably God’s favourite child, this turns out to be the right direction; after a few minutes, the sound of voices and the signs of occupation start to pop up. 

Well, it's hopefully the right direction. There’s still the chance they’ve ended up somewhere incredibly dangerous, and that they should be going _away_ from the people around here, but Tim’s trying not to think too much about that.

Eventually, they come across a fence. It takes about one second of mutual eye contact for them all to agree that, yeah, they’ve all done worse than hopping a fence before and this is honestly a very minor entry on their respective very long lists of questionable life decisions. Tim thinks his starts with ‘being born’, but he’s not too sure. Maybe his early infancy was brilliant. He guesses he can’t rule it out.

They walk for a bit more, noting the definite signs of human presence in the area, and then they see somebody. Thank fucking god.

The three of them look at each other, and break into a semi-jog. The person doesn’t really look dangerous. They’re just standing in the sun, a book in their hand, looking fully engrossed in whatever’s happening in the novel.

Actually, as they get closer…

Tim recognizes this person. He squints and—yeah, he _definitely_ recognizes this person.

Thank. Fucking. God.

“Di—” he starts calling out, when Cass grabs his arm and says, “Wait, Tim!” 

Tim looks again, and realizes that there’s something wrong.

Oh. Oh no. Dick, looking up at them now, is… wrong. Different. He seems younger, for one. His haircut’s changed. He’s dressed in the wrong clothes as well.

There’s also just… something else off. Something that Tim can’t place, but something incredibly crucial to whatever it is that makes up the Dick Grayson he knows.

Fuck, that’s definitely not the Dick Grayson they had last seen in the Manor.

Tim, Cass and Jason all stop in their tracks, but it’s too late. This other Dick is walking towards them now, frowning.

Wonderful. Seriously. Dimension travel was _exactly_ what Tim had on his to-do list today.

Tim feels both Jason and Cass tense beside him. He’s a little confused as to how he’s in the middle and thus appointed spokesperson, but as this other version of Dick gets closer, it’s obvious that the other two won’t say shit.

Dick crosses his arms and stops as soon as he’s close enough to talk. There’s a healthy distance left between them. He doesn’t know them, then. Or at least, can’t recognize them.

He says, eyes narrowed, “Can I help you?”

He’s got an accent that Tim can’t place. A pretty heavy one. The Dick that Tim knows speaks several languages perfectly unaccented.

Tim, Cass and Jason look at each other.

“Um,” Tim says, scrambling for something to say. “We’re… lost,”

Dick raises his eyebrows. “Lost,” he repeats, sounding doubtful. It’s not all doubt, though. There’s some amusement in there as well, which Tim supposes is vaguely encouraging.

Tim nods, trying to play up his _I’m a sweet kid_ charm that he knows he still has because even now he hasn’t fully left behind his baby fat, and bites his lip.

“I’m really sorry if this is somewhere we aren’t allowed to be,” he says, looking around, “but we just got super turned around.”

Tim makes imploring eye contact with Dick. 

Cass nudges him in the side very slightly. She moves closer, just a little, and whispers, “Look behind him,”

Tim looks.

His heart almost stops when he sees the big top rising over the trees. There’s only been one circus that’s ever visited Gotham, and for a moment everything makes _too much_ sense; what was it that Jason said the old woman had told him? Help uncover the truth? It's like everything clicks into place for a few seconds. Tim can’t quite breathe properly. 

But no. It doesn’t make sense. Dick had been a child that night, and this is clearly Dick at… eighteen? Nineteen? The ages just don’t add up, even if everything else does. There’s something else going on here, and Tim feels so relieved upon realizing it that he almost slumps to the ground. He’s not super keen on being audience to his older brother’s traumatic memories. Not _again._ Especially without Dick actually around.

Then, after the relief passes, he realizes that this revelation just makes him even more confused about what the fuck is going on here.

Dick starts saying, “Right, su—” when he’s cut off by the sound of distant shouting. It becomes increasingly not-distant, as Tim spies somebody else approaching. At first, he thinks he can’t make out the things being shouted, but then he realizes that he just can’t understand the language.

Dick turns around and yells something back. Presumably in the same language. Romani? Tim knows that there’s a bunch of dialects and such, but he can’t remember which one it was that Dick spoke. Caló? Vlax? He remembers flicking through one of the studies that Bruce had in the library, but doesn’t recall much of the actual information.

Tim’s thoughts get derailed the instant the other person starts to come into view. He barely stops his mouth from falling open. Because that’s—it can’t be—but it is definitely—

Mary Grayson. That has to be Mary Grayson. Dick’s _mother._ Older than Tim remembers her from the pictures and posters, but that makes sense if Dick is older as well. She’s… here. She’s _here._

She’s walking towards them with a frown on her face, living and breathing and wholly alive. Cass gasps.

“Is that…” Jason mumbles. Tim nods stiffly. 

Mary takes in the three of them, and then turns to Dick.

In English, with that same unplaceable accent, she says, “Who is this? Should I… get somebody?” 

Dick looks at the three of them. Tim desperately tries to communicate how much he _doesn’t_ want her to ‘get somebody’, but he doesn’t know if the message gets across. 

Dick turns back to his mother, and his mouth lifts in a smile. It’s a little ridiculous, Tim knows, but he feels some of his stress leave at the sight of it. Something about those Dick Grayson smiles. 

“Nah,” he tells Mary, “it’s all good. These are my friends,”

Mary raises an eyebrow at him. It’s striking how similar they are. Not just in appearance, but in mannerism as well. It’s sweet to see, the way they mirror each other.

It’s a little heartbreaking as well.

“You’ve made friends already?” she asks with an incredulous smile. “We’ve been here for two days.”

Dick’s smile turns cheeky. “Not my fault you raised such a charmer,” he replies.

Mary chuckles. “Yes,” she says, shaking her head, “very charming for you to skip practice to hang out with your new American friends,”

Dick says something that Tim can’t recognize, but assumes means _mum_ or _mama,_ and then continues, “I’ve been practicing my whole life.” There’s the slightest bit of whine in his voice. 

Mary laughs and reaches out to ruffle his hair. “Alright,” she says, calling Dick a name Tim can’t recognize either. “Introduce me, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Dick beams under his mother’s touch, happy and affectionate. It’s easy to tell how much he adores her.

"Guys, this is my mother, Mary," Dick says.

He turns and looks expectantly at Tim, Cass and Jason. Oh. Right. Tim had forgotten that he doesn’t actually know them. Even in this universe, Dick is ridiculously nice. Well. Actually, it makes a lot of sense for this version of Dick to be ridiculously cheerful. He’s still got… well… Everything.

His parents. His circus. His life.

Hoping that his expression is bright, he says, “Um, hi. I’m Tim.” He pauses, then adds, “It’s really nice to meet you.”

It seems even Mary can pick up the saccharine sincerity in his words, because she gives him a soft smile.

“I’m Cass,” Cass says, ducking her head at Mary. “It’s… wonderful to meet you. Truly.”

Everybody turns to Jason, who seems to want to shrink away under the attention. Rubbing the back of his neck and not making eye contact with anybody, he says, “Jason. Um. Same. It’s good. To meet you.”

Mary smiles at all of them in turn. It’s not quite Dick’s smile, but it has the same effect; that morning sunshine kind of feeling, that flowers in bloom kind of feeling. 

“It’s lovely to meet all of you too,” she says, and she means it, every single word. Tim doesn’t even need Cass to confirm it for him. Mary turns to Dick again and ruffles his hair one last time. Dick doesn't even seem to mind. “Alright, have fun. Don’t get into too much trouble, okay?”

Dick rolls his eyes, but his smile is irrepressible. “Of course,” he replies dutifully. 

Mary gives them all one last wave and smile, and then she walks off.

As soon as she’s out of earshot, Dick turns back to them, his arms crossed. His expression is indulgently smug.

“Tim, Cass and Jason,” he says. “I really hope you aren’t stalkers, or else I’m guilty of lying to my mother,”

Tim shakes his head rapidly. “We aren’t stalkers,” he replies. There’s no way to prove their innocence, really, and they’ve been nothing but suspicious, but he tries to find something to say to convince Dick. Something. Anything. He blurts out, “Uh, pinky swear.”

Dick’s eyebrows go up.

Very slowly, he extends his arm, pinky outstretched. Tim hadn’t… well, he didn’t expect that Dick would actually take him up on it, but he interlocks their pinkies. Dick nods solemnly.

“Pinky swear,” he intones, like he’s not a legal adult and not talking to almost total strangers.

They release each other’s fingers, and Dick breaks into a friendly smile. It’s strange to look at that smile and know that there’s none of the usual history or understanding behind it. This is a Dick Grayson who isn’t Tim’s older brother. Who might not be anybody’s older brother.

A Dick Grayson that Tim doesn’t know at all. It’s such a strange thought. One that Tim honestly can’t quite comprehend.

“So,” Dick says, “why are you guys really here? Don’t try the lost excuse again, Tim, you really aren’t that good at lying.”

Tim blinks in disbelief. Sure, he’s not as good as Cass, or Dick, or Bruce, but Tim’s pretty sure that he can lie well enough to convince somebody who’s supposed to be a civilian. Even if he had been pretty unbalanced at the time. Damn.

He’d always known that Dick’s skill with reading and understanding people was part based on rigorous detective training, and part based on intuition; he just never realized how deep that intuition ran.

Tim looks at the other two, since he’s obviously out of the running for convincing Dick that they have a reason to be here. They don’t, but there’s nothing they can do about that.

Surprisingly, it’s Jason who steps up to the plate. 

“We’re journalists,” he says, pulling out a notepad from his jacket. Tim has to exert effort to keep his expression neutral upon hearing that. Jason must’ve actually thought about this, because that’s a halfway decent reason.

Dick tilts his head innocently. It’s the exact same gesture he makes in their universe when he’s caught somebody out on bullshit. “Who with?” he asks.

Tim hopes Jason thought that far, and his hopes are fulfilled. Pleasantly surprising.

“The Daily Journal,” Jason says with confidence. Shit, that’s a smart choice. Maybe they should’ve appointed Jason spokesperson; Tim hadn’t realized how good he was at… well… diplomatic bending of the truth.

Dick’s face lights up as soon as Jason mentions the Daily Journal. “Oh,” he says, clapping his hands together. “You know Clark?”

 _Dick_ knows Clark?

Jason nods eagerly. “Yeah, we know Clark. He’s the supervisor for the piece we’re doing,”

Dick grins at them. Tim is still trying to figure out how it is that Dick knows Clark. Maybe it’s on civilian terms only, but that’s still… confusing. Haly’s Circus is primarily based in Europe. Unless they’ve added America to their regular tour stops, there should’ve been pretty limited crossover in Dick and Clark’s lives. 

“You should’ve said so in the first place,” Dick says, laughing a little. “Oh, man, how is he? He hasn’t responded to my texts for like, three days. Working you guys hard?”

Jason seems to be hitting his stride now. His entire demeanour has brightened up, like he’s begun to occupy a role. Or maybe just come out of his angry shell. Tim tends to associate Jason so much with the violence and fighting side of vigiliantism that he forgets that Jason can do the other stuff, too. The sneaky undercover stuff.

“To the bone,” Jason says, shaking his head ruefully. Then, he turns and sticks a thumb towards Tim. “We would’ve said so, but this guy panicked when he saw you.” He gives Dick a light, almost conspiratory smile. “We were kinda lost,” he confides, “and I don’t think he was expecting to see you so suddenly. You know, he’s kind of a fanboy.”

Tim, on instinct, reaches out and punches Jason in the arm. He feels a blush rising up on his cheeks already, damnit, Jason _knows_ he used to be a fan of the Flying Graysons! The asshole!

Dick laughs even louder, even brighter, and the sound fills up the sky to the limit. He turns to Tim, grinning, and teases, “Aw, do you want me to sign your shirt?”

Tim’s face flushes even hotter. “I’m fine, thank you,” he grits out between clenched teeth, which makes Jason, Dick _and_ Cass laugh at him.

Cass drapes herself over his shoulder, pulling at his cheek. “You shouldn’t,” she tells Dick seriously. “He might never wear another shirt again,”

They break out into another round of laughter. Tim wants to melt into the ground from the humiliation. This kind of betrayal he could understand, and almost expect, from Jason, but from Cass? How could she? Dick doesn’t even _know_ him and he already thinks Tim is a loser!

Tim pushes Cass’ hand away, and covers his face in sheer mortification. 

Through his fingers, he mumbles, “You guys are making me sound so creepy! I’m just… Ugh, I’m not a _fanboy,_ I just li—”

“Wow,” Dick says, interrupting Tim’s probably soon-to-be very embarrassing rambling. “You’re not a fan, Tim? You don’t like me? That’s kinda hurtful,”

Tim knows he’s being made fun of, he _does,_ but he still drops his hands and looks up in horror. He can’t help it. It’s some kind of terrible reflex that’s been trained into him by Dick constantly using that fake hurt tone when they were younger and and he was always messing with Tim. He still does now, but his attention’s split between Tim and Damian, so there’s less heat. 

Tim guesses that is _one_ good thing about having the brat around.

Dick’s grinning when they make eye contact, and like that, the other three burst into laughter again. 

Tim groans, but even he can’t help chuckling a little. This entire situation is confusing, and definitely concerning, but. At least it’s pretty fun. Tim has to admit, he is having fun.

* * *

They decide to get settled at some picnic tables nearby. Now that he knows that they’re Clark’s friends, technically coworkers, Dick has decided to pull out every stop for hospitality. He sits them down at the table. He gets their tea or coffee orders. He texts somebody about it. He asks if they need any pens.

It’s really, really sweet. Dick and Clark seem as close in this universe as they are in Tim’s, which, since Dick doesn’t even know about the whole Superman thing, kind of blows Tim’s mind. He asks for stories about Clark working, which force Tim and Jason to pull out their best diplomatic bending of the truth yet, but he also tells them about his memories with Clark.

Cass doesn’t contribute much, because it’s Cass, but she does get in a few snipes at Tim’s work ethic. And his fashion sense. And his sleep schedule.

Actually, pretty much all Cass does is tease Tim. At first, he wonders if she’s trying to tell him something, but then he realizes that this is some kind of fucked up older sibling bonding ritual that she’s participating in. Except Dick isn’t even older than him in this universe, nor does he know Tim well enough to join in. 

It clicks for Tim that Dick isn’t necessarily the one that Cass is trying to connect with when Jason adds in a comment about finding Tim pouring coffee into a pot plant—which only happened _one time_ and was because Damian put salt in his cup—and Cass laughs.

Oh. Oh, now that is _interesting._

Jason seems buoyed by Cass’ positive reaction, because he starts to add more comments and stories. Normally, those would chafe at Tim quite a bit, but Jason seems strangely aware of his boundaries this time. Maybe it’s because he’s bouncing off of Cass, and knows that she’ll shut him down in an instant if he went too far. 

That feeling is… kinda nice, actually. Knowing that Cass is here to theoretically keep Jason in line, and that Jason respects that. He finds he doesn’t even mind being at the centre of it. It’s weird, in a strange but surprisingly delightful way, to see Cass and Jason getting along this much. He thinks it might be the closest he’s seen them get to common ground.

The moment gets even better when, while Cass and Jason are arguing the finer details of the time Tim ‘accidentally’ sent a virus to the group chat (Cass says it was an accident, Jason does not, Tim declines to comment), Dick leans in with a small grin.

“So you’re the baby of the group, huh?” he asks Tim. He’s sitting next to Tim, while Cass and Jason are opposite them at the table. This means that Tim can lean in as well, keeping his voice low, and whisper back.

“I guess you could say that,” he murmurs with a roll of his eyes. 

Dick snorts. “It’s cute. They both seem to really care about you.”

Cass, yes. Jason, the jury’s still a little unsure about. Still, Tim shrugs, and allows, “In their own weird way,”

“Elder siblings prerogative,” Dick replies, and it sounds like the million other times Tim has heard those exact words from him. He laughs, the sound bubbling out of him without his explicit permission.

Cass and Jason both stop talking and turn back to Tim and Dick.

Cass tilts her head and says, “Don’t exclude.”

Jason, next to her, looks reluctantly content _._ Which shouldn’t be a rare look on him, but is anyway, in the tragic way that good days are rare for Tim. Wow. Their lives can really suck sometimes. 

The usual anger that lines Jason’s face seems to have faded, and even his usual joking angst or edginess seem to have fled completely. He doesn’t look completely at peace, because none of them will probably ever get to that stage, but he looks. Well. Happy.

Tim shoots him a hesitant smile, and is pleased to find it returned. This _is_ a good day, he realizes. An amazing, one-of-a-kind day. They’re spending the morning in a universe that seems to hold none of the hurt that theirs does, with the sun shining above them, and no tensions between them.

Tim almost doesn’t want to go home.

Next to him, Dick, who has been chatting with Cass, says, “Anyway, shouldn’t you guys do your interview?”

Tim almost jumps. He had forgotten their reason for being here after getting so caught up in the conversation. It seems that Jason and Cass let it slip their minds too, considering the looks on their faces. 

Dick, to his credit, just laughs at them. 

The rest of them laugh along, because they’ve all learnt that it’s almost impossible to do otherwise upon hearing his laugh. It’s somehow more infectious and more delightful than their Dick’s laugh, which is impressive. Happiness really suits Dick. It makes Tim realize how often Dick, back home, isn’t happy. It’s convincing when there’s nothing else to compare it to, but now Tim can see how many of those smiles and those hugs had an edge. Just the slightest edge.

Here, in this universe, Dick doesn’t seem to hold anything back.

Jason pulls out his notepad. Tim hopes that he knows anything about journalism and interviewing, because Tim has no idea where they’re going from here.

Uncapping his pen, Jason says, “So, tell me. Is this your first time in Gotham?”

Oh, the clever bastard.

Dick raises his eyebrows. “I feel like you should know that,” he replies.

“It’s a leading question,” Jason explains, rolling his eyes. “It’s supposed to set the scene and everything,”

Tim and Cass share looks. Jason sounds like he knows what he’s doing, which is a revelation that Tim might have to pursue when they get back home. If they get back home.

Dick nods, his eyes sparkling. “Alright, I guess I shouldn’t question the professionals,” he says with a snort. “Okay, uh. This is not my first time in Gotham, no. I’ve been here once before.”

Jason nods. He looks at Tim, doing something with his eyes, and Tim understands that he’s being passed the baton. Right. Sure. He can pretend to be a journalist.

“That was… a pretty big moment, huh?” he says, hoping that the question is vague enough that Dick will take the bait.

He does, because Dick Grayson isn’t in the business of letting people down. He snorts and says, “I feel like pretty big is an understatement.” His expression turns a little more serious. “It was Haly’s first ever show in America, my parents almost got murdered, and I got to meet Superman. Try _really fucking big,”_

Wow.

That _is_ really fucking big. 

Fuck.

Superman had been there. Tim had assumed, or hoped, that Zucco’s attempt on the Flying Graysons had never happened at all, but to find out they were saved by Superman of all people… 

It must have been terrifying. It must’ve been a one in a billion chance. Had he been flying overhead? Invited by Bruce, so he was sitting in the crowd? It’s almost winding, really, to know that it had been so… _possible._ So close to home.

The three of them must’ve sat in shock for a little too long, because Dick lets out an awkward laugh and says, “Come on, guys, you knew this already,”

Jason is the one who snaps back into focus the fastest. Staring down at his notepad, he says, “Yeah. It’s still just… um, amazing to hear. A once in a lifetime kind of thing.”

Dick smiles, soft and knowing, at Jason. 

“Yeah,” he says gently. “It felt like a miracle. It still kinda does.”

Tim doesn’t tear up, but he does do a lot of rapid blinking in the following seconds.

Jason clears his throat, almost awkward, almost unsure. “So, uh,” he says, eyes scanning a blank notepad page, “it’s been a long time since then. What brings you back?”

Dick’s mood shifts, and it’s like watching somebody wipe condensation off a window. Everything comes into sharpness again. “Well, this is the last tour before my parents retire,” he says. He looks around the area, and then turns back to them with a half-quirked smile. “To be honest, I didn’t really want to come back here.”

“Couldn’t blame you,” Jason agrees. 

Dick nods at him, and continues. “But, Haly insisted we go. We’re calling it a commemorative tour stop, though I don’t know that a murder attempt is something that should be commemorated.” Dick snorts. “It’s definitely bringing in the money though. We’re staying an extra night because of the demand.”

It almost makes Tim tear up for real, hearing that Dick’s parents have lived long enough to consider retirement. He suddenly feels so tender, so _sore,_ knowing that he’s sitting here in a world where everything went… right. He’s going to have to go back and look at his Dick in the eye, and know that he’s seen the lifetime where everything didn’t fall apart for him.

How is Tim going to do that? How are any of them?

Jason, sensing that Tim’s in no position to be talking, takes over the rest of the interview.

“Extra money is always good,” he says, getting a smile from Dick in return. “How do you feel about it, though? Knowing that it’s going to be one of the last times you perform with your parents?”

Jason is good at this. Like, genuinely, actually good at this. He looks like he’s enjoying it too, eyes bright and body language open. Tim feels like he has enough to try and process right now; the thought of Jason and all that could’ve been for him is honestly overwhelming.

Still, Tim can’t tear his eyes away.

Dick shrugs in response. “Everyone keeps asking me that, and honestly? It’s not that bad. They aren’t leaving the circus or anything; my mother is going into choreography, so we’ll still be working together, and my father is considering becoming a coach. They’ll still be there, you know?” 

Then, he catches sight of something in the distance, and his entire countenance lights up.

“Plus,” he says, as all of them turn to look, “it’s not like I’m going to be performing alone.”

Approaching them is a young girl, holding a tray of drinks. She looks familiar too, but not because she’s somebody Tim has seen before.

In their vague direction, she shouts, “Hey! I’m not your errand girl!”

She’s grinning. A look at Dick tells Tim that he’s grinning as well.

Dick stands up, cups his hands around his mouth and shouts back, “What else are you good for?”

A few moments later, she gets to their table and puts down the tray of drinks. As soon as her hands are free, she smacks Dick in the shoulder.

“You’re the worst,” she informs him, and yeah. She’s familiar. She’s definitely familiar.

Dick turns to them, still grinning that megawatt smile, and says, “Everyone, meet my little sister Gabrielle. These are my friends Tim, Cass, and Jason.”

Dick says _friends_ with full confidence. Tim can’t believe that just an hour or so ago he had been accussing them of stalking. Now, it feels a little like they’ve known each other for years.

Well, technically Tim has known him for years. Dick, on the other hand, is just ridiculously personable.

Gabrielle turns that smile onto them and it makes it impossible to mistake, really: she’s Dick’s sibling through and through. 

“Hiya!” she says, waving. “Call me Gabi. I’m the _real_ star of this show.”

Tim raises his eyebrows, a smile stealing across his face. She’s absolutely adorable. 

Dick snorts as he distributes the drinks. There are only four, which means Gabi doesn’t plan on staying; a little disappointing, but Tim gets it. She probably has better things to do. 

Still, she lingers for a while, Apparently, sharp eyes run in the family, because she picks up on Jason’s notepad immediately. 

“What’s that?” she says, leaning over to read. “Parents retiring, final tour…” She gasps. “Is this an interview? Are you guys journalists?”

She covers her mouth and stares at them with wild, excited eyes.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? They’re _interviewing_ me. I’m going to be on the news, you know.” 

Gabi gasps again. “Oh my gosh!” she yells, running around the side of the table to crowd up to Jason. “Can I be in it? Do you want my picture?”

Jason stares at her, bewildered by how close she is and how loud she is. Tim remembers Dick being like that too, when he was younger. Loud and approachable. Even as Robin.

Dick laughs. He pats the bench next to him and says, “Gabi, leave him alone. Come sit here. He’ll ask you a few questions, won’t he?”

He finishes with a wink Jason’s way. Jason gives him a watery, dazed smile in response.

Gabi giggles happily as she runs to Dick’s side. She leans into him instantly as they sit, and Dick’s immediately wrapping his arm around her. It's a gesture that speaks of constant familiarity and affection. They look good together. Not quite a picture perfect family, but something better. Something brighter.

Cass gives Jason a look, and whatever goes between them in those few seconds allows them to come to an understanding.

“Okay, Gabi,” Cass asks, grabbing the notepad and smiling gently. “How old are you?”

Gabi chirps, “I’m ten!” and looks so proud of herself that Tim almost bursts out laughing. God, she’s _adorable._

“And what do you perform in the circus, Gabi?” Cass continues.

Gabi puffs up her chest. She is a star, Tim thinks fondly. She’s practically glowing.

“I haven’t performed before, but I’m a trapeze artist! The next Flying Grayson!” she proudly announces. She turns to look up at Dick, who nods at her to continue. “I’m going to debut in two weeks!” she whispers excitedly.

Cass gasps, putting a hand to her chest. “That’s very exciting,” she tells Gabi, who nods vigorously. “Are you excited?”

“Yes!” Gaby shouts. She throws her hands up into the air. “I’m going to fly!”

Tim can’t stop smiling. Neither can Jason. Neither can Cass.

And Dick? Dick is looking down at Gabi, at his little sister, with the most adoring, loving, devoted expression Tim has ever seen. Like she’s the stars and the sun and the sky. Like she’s the best thing in the whole wide world. 

Tim is going to have to go back to a universe where Dick has none of this.

“Yeah, you are,” Dick murmurs gently. “They’re going to love you, Lajariá.”

Is Dick even happy, back there? It’s not like he can specifically know what he’s been missing, not like Tim and Cass and Jason do now, but does he wonder? Does he wish it was otherwise? 

For all that they talk, about anything and everything, Tim can’t remember ever being told by Dick that he was happy. To be fair, it’s not something that people usually state so plainly but… Dick avoids talking about his emotions altogether, most times. Tim has no idea what’s lurking underneath his surface. Some days, Tim's fine with that.

He feels like it’s going to be much, much harder to feel that way from now on.

It’s an insidious, terrifying realization. The thought that Dick might not be happy. Despite everything that’s happened in his life, Tim doesn’t feel like he regrets becoming a hero. Fuck, in some ways, being taken in by Bruce was a marked improvement from his life before. He knows that it's the same for Jason and Cass.

But was it for Dick? He had loving parents, and a community, and a lifelong passion. And he had that ripped away from him.

And now Tim realizes that for all that he loves his older brother, and for all that his older brother loves him, Tim doesn’t know if he’s happy with his life.

Is Dick happy? With his life? With his family? With _anything?_

Just like that, the world goes white again.

* * *

Tim blinks and he’s back on the Manor doorstep. Back in what surely has to be his own reality.

He stares at Jason and Cass. 

They stare back.

He feels something in his hand. When he looks down, the charm is sitting there, deceptively still. Tim has to remind himself to breathe.

 _Help uncover the truth,_ was what the lady had said, right? 

He whispers, very shakily, “Hey, Jason.”

Jason swallows. “Um. Yes?” he says, sounding just as shaken up.

Tim can’t really tell if the breathing exercises he's doing are working or not. He feels like he’s just… checked the fuck out. His mind has left the premises instead of trying to process all that he just found out. 

“Just before we flashed back, were you wondering whether or not Dick, um, our version of him, was happy?”

Cass wrings her hands together. “I was,” she says quietly.

His eyes wide, Jason replies, “Yeah. I was. The—that lady. She said that the charm was going to help me…”

“Uncover the truth,” Cass adds miserably. “Oh, no.”

Fuck. _Fuck._ How had they all fucked up as siblings so badly? Enough that they had to be sent a _cosmic fucking message_ telling them to do better. 

More importantly, how are they supposed to fix this? What are they supposed to do? 

Tim turns to look at the door behind him. He’s never dreaded going inside more than he has right now. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed; maybe Dick’s left already. Gone back home to Bludhaven to be alone. Alone.

_Fuck._

Tim turns back to his siblings. Jason is retreating into himself again, his face growing stony and cold. Next to him, Cass looks absolutely torn up.

“We can’t tell anybody about what just happened,” Tim whispers harshly. 

All of them nod. Tim runs his hands through his hair, and then does it again, just for good measure. He feels awful. Shaky, and sad, and confused, and _sad._

He doesn’t want to go inside. He doesn’t want to face his older brother, who’s maybe fucked up once or twice, but who tries so hard. Who loves so much.

Who deserves to be happier than this.

If there’s one thing this experience has told him, it’s that his inaction has consequences. Tim digs his key out of his pocket and opens the door, despite how much he wants to get back in his car and drive home. He can’t avoid this.

He pushes open the door and steps over the threshold. Cass follows him.

Jason trails behind, but when Cass and Tim both send him glares, he comes through.

They have no game plan. No idea what they’re doing. All they have is a stupid magical charm and an unhappy older brother.

Tim breathes in deeply, and then turns to look in the room that Dick and Damian had holed up in.

For the second time that day, he feels his heart almost stop.

Damian must’ve fallen asleep at some point during the movie. The sound has been turned down, and it almost feels like another world in that room: curtains drawn, lights low.

Dick is staring down at Damian sleeping on his shoulder with a look. That same look. That loving, adoring look. It’s like deja vu, seeing the way Dick looks at Damian, because that’s definitely, unmistakably the look that he had been giving Gabi a few minutes ago.

Like Damian is the stars and the sun and the sky. Like Damian is the best thing in the world.

Oh. _Oh._

The spell is broken when Dick notices them and looks up. He looks surprised at first, but his expression softens into a smile quickly after. Tim can see it too, that _look,_ echoed in this smile as well. He wonders why he didn’t see it everywhere before.

Dick puts a finger to his lips and tilts his head towards Damian, but it’s too late. The kid’s a ridiculously light sleeper. The sound of the front door creaking shut behind Jason makes him stir.

Damian rubs his eyes, glaring sleepily at the world.

“Wh—” he starts, then squints at the television. Then, he squints at Dick. “I fell asleep during the film,” he states blankly.

Dick grins at him and smooths down some of his hair. “Sure did, kiddo.”

Damian frowns. Still sleepy, the expression is kinda cute. “You should’ve woken me up,” he says, before breaking into another yawn.

Dick laughs. “Nah, you looked like you needed the rest.”

Damian huffs at him, but drops the subject. Instead, he turns his attention towards finding what woke him up. The people standing in the doorway aren't hard to spot, and soon he’s narrowing his eyes in their direction. Damn, Tim still thinks it’s kinda cute.

“What are they doing back?” Damian asks.

“Dunno,” Dick replies with a shrug. “It hasn’t been that long. Did—” He shuts his mouth. His eyes widen as he spots something. Or somebody. 

Tim turns around to see that Jason has reluctantly shuffled into view.

“Jay!” Dick says, sitting up on the couch. A smile spreads across his face. Infectious as ever. “What brings you here?”

He sounds excited. Tim and Cass both send Jason a look. 

Jason pushes into the room, staring at his feet. “Hey, Dick,” he mutters. “Just dropping in to say hi.”

Dick raises his eyebrows in disbelief. He looks like he wants to question Jason more, but he throws himself down in one of the armchairs with enough force that Dick decides to back off and question people he thinks will answer instead.

Blue eyes turn on Tim. Shockingly blue. Like the colour of the sky on a good day.

Dick deserves every single good day ever. 

Tim thinks he might as well. Or at least, he’d like it.

“What brings you guys back, then? Did you forget something?” Dick asks.

Tim looks at Cass. She meets his gaze for a moment, and he can see as something resolves in her eyes.

Nodding to herself firmly, Cass says, “Yes, we forgot something,”

Before Tim or Dick can ask what, Cass walks up to Dick, and throws her arms around him. 

Dick gives a surprised laugh but returns the hug all the same.

“Aw, Cassie,” he says, smoothing a hand over her hair. “Love you.”

Cass nods fiercely into his shoulder. “I love you,” she replies. The words are muffled by the hug, but they’re still forceful. Still certain. Dick’s smile grows wider.

When Cass pulls back, Dick turns his eyes to Tim.

Cass smiles.

Dick opens up his arms, and Tim runs into them.

It’s a good hug. It’s a really good hug. Tim practically melts into the embrace, relishing in the feeling of his older brother wrapping him up and holding on tight. He squeezes hard. Very hard. Just to hear the surprised little noise Dick makes in response, and just so that Dick knows and can feel how much Tim loves him.

They probably hold onto the hug for way too long, but when they separate, Tim still feels like it’s too soon. He just—he has to _know._ He has to know that Dick knows that he’s loved. He has to know whether Dick is okay, whether he’s safe, whether he’s happy.

The words slip out before Tim can quite stop them.

“Dick, are you happy? Do you need anything?”

Dick looks surprised for a few seconds. Then, he grins.

“Yeah, Timmy,” he replies, brushing some of Tim’s hair back from his forehead. “I’m all good.”

Then Dick turns and nudges Damian gently. “Damian?” he asks. “You need any snacks from the grocery?”

That's not what Tim had been asking, but somehow, he feels like he's gotten an answer anyway.

Damian considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t require anything,” he replies. “Except maybe for Drake to leave the vicinity so we can finish this film properly.”

Just for that, Tim reaches out and viciously messes up Damian’s hair. Damian squawks and immediately grabs at Tim, but he’s not nearly as rough as he usually would be. Actually, for Damian, this is downright docile.

He’s probably having a good day. Tim hopes that he’s having a good day.

Tim withdraws his hand and retreats to safety next to Cass. She grabs his hand, smiling at him, and it makes Tim feel hope, makes him feel safe, makes him feel happy. Dick is smiling at him, and Cass, and Jason like he knows something; it would be literally impossible for him to know, but there’s still a light in his eyes that makes Tim feel terribly seen.

Still, it’s a good smile. A sweet, indulgent smile. A smile that Tim doesn’t think could be faked.

“You know,” Dick says, “you guys should come back here when you’re done with your shopping. It’s your day off, right? We can have a little movie night,”

Damian sits up, protesting immediately at the loss of his time with Dick. “What, no! You’re already spending time with me today!”

Dick laughs, throwing his arm around Damian and pulling him closer. Because it’s Dick, nobody gets mauled or so much as threatened in the process. “Come on, baby bird, it’ll be fun! Jay’s here as well, so it’ll be a proper family movie session!”

A proper family movie session. Because they’re a proper family. Tim suddenly feels very, very silly for ever doubting. 

“Sounds good,” Cass says, squeezing Tim’s hand.

Damian’s still pouting, so Dick rolls his eyes and adds, “You can choose the movie. Is that okay?”

Damian huffs. “Acceptable,” he snaps. He sends a considering look towards Tim. “Only if they get me vegan cookies.”

Tim rolls his eyes and adds a trip to the expensive fancy grocery store to his itinerary. Brat. 

“Alright, alright,” he says, waving in Damian’s way. “I’ll get you your cookies.”

With everybody except him in agreement, every eye in the room turns to Jason. He's already picked up a book that had been lying around and dug his nose into it. Curled up like that in the armchair, he looks younger. Or maybe just looks his age.

It takes a moment for him to realize everybody is staring at him, but when he does, he scoffs.

“Do I look like I’m going anywhere?” he snaps. His tone is considerably softer than normal, and it seems that everybody can pick up on that too. Dick gives him a sappy smile. Damian rolls his eyes.

Tim looks at Cass, and squeezes her hand back.

“If you do not return in an hour, we’re starting without you,” Damian tells them.

They break into smiles.

“Come on,” Tim says, leading their way out of the room. “We better hurry,”

Cass shrugs happily. “I’m not worried,” she says, ignoring how Jason calls _you should be!_ at their backs.

And it’s true, Tim finds. It’s true. He’s not worried either. For once, he feels completely fine.

It’s a good day. It’s a really, really good day.

**Author's Note:**

> the donkey is hestia's sacred animal and the fireplace/hearth is her symbol. thank you to the greek gods for always being there for me when i need an easy plot device
> 
> (me, 2 days later, realizing that this technically counts as tim bday fic: happy birthday u loser?)


End file.
